


Within Our Hearts

by loverlupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, cause why not, remus and cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverlupin/pseuds/loverlupin
Summary: Remus had always been a cat person until a certain person changed his mind for the better.posted on remus’ birthday so happy birthday rem!! <3
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	Within Our Hearts

Remus Lupin had always considered himself to be a cat person. It was in his blood, practically, the belief stretching back in his memory for as long as his mind could recall. Ever since he was toddling around in the English countryside, there always seemed to be an accompanying furry friend that wouldn’t mind its tail pulled and its hair petted too roughly - all at the expense of the messy boy with too many curls and too much of a wild streak. At the most, he would be scratched, but continued to play with no gathered animosity. 

As he grew more solemn at the ripe age of three, he understood that cats were there to  _ love _ and friends were there to play. He met an equally mischievous boy named Ralph at nursery school. They were known for trying to eat all of the blocks set out for them to learn the alphabet. As opposed to taking their activities as a responsibility, they stole, broke, and hid anything they could find. Still, though, the end of each day brought a farewell to Ralph, and a hello to whichever neighbourhood cat was visiting the Lupin residence at the time. He continued to adore them above any other animal.

It was a few days after his fifth birthday and acceptance into a local primary school that it happened. He had a birthday party Saturday, full of friends (including Ralph), and got the thing he had pleaded his mum for constantly up until his special day: a cat. They had never owned one. His father, Lyall, repeated time and time again that he was not to spend their limited income on feeding another living thing. In addition to this, he vehemently refused to clean up after the “bloody creature” (as he referred to it), and said he would rather not make Remus face his temper if it scratched him. This didn’t deter Remus. Although he was still as much of a prankster as ever, he prolonged his stunts to seek out his mother. His constant pleading and her snooping about led them to the most perfect cat they had ever seen. Granted, it was a bit disheveled, but nothing short of sweet.

Her name was Wanderlust. Remus called her “Lucy” once presented with her that Saturday (she was in a little box, which she purred happily in as he started to pet her), less concerned about an abundance of syllables and more of making her his own. Hope (his mum) stuck firmly to Wanderlust, insisting to Lyall that she had wandered into their life, and should be called by a corresponding title. He shouted a bit and went to get a drink, coming back to compose himself and suck it up for their child. She was there to stay.

In the days they had hidden it from Remus, Lyall tried to bite his tongue on the multitude of things wrong with her. Her tail was short, her claws were sharp, her teeth could easily hurt Remus. Hope sternly reminded him that Remus wouldn’t know any different than to love her - just as he had with the dozens of cats he’d come across in the rest of his life. He remained silent on the issue. Instead of drawing it out (as a normal situation would call for), he focused all of his energy on his upcoming werewolf campaign. He was keen on getting a pay raise from it. It was set for the day after Remus’ birthday party, and was sure to strike fear in the hearts of many. Many of the heartless beasts would be captured and put away for it. That, or put down. He didn’t care either way. As long as the money hinted to him would end up arriving, all would be well.

Then there was the incident.

“Remus! Remus!” Hope cried, covering her little boy in the dewy field with her arms to protect him from any further harm. She screamed with despair at how lifeless he looked. His eyes were glazed over, his breathing shallow, and the shadows over his face ominous. The bottom half of his bed-clothes were covered with blood. “Lyall, get out here, please!”

She had gone to wake Remus earlier that morning, intent on showing him how adorable Wanderlust looked stretched out in their front window. As she peeled back his sheets, she was met with a horrid stench - like someone had visited who hadn’t showered in months. Her heart raced while she creeped around the rest of the house. From their back porch, she saw a little figure crumpled in the grass, rushed out to it, and was met with the unimaginable sight.

“Remus! He’s- he’s-” she sobbed harder, attempting to convey his condition to her husband in limited words. He went back into the house in pursuit of his wand.

“I know what happened,” he said gravely once he returned. Between words, he chanted something under his breath, and the pool blood started to fade away. Remus’ breathing steadied ever so slightly. “You know my presentation I did at the Ministry last weekend?”

“What about it?” she looked up, eyes shining.

“One of the werewolves must’ve gotten him, Hope.”

***

Lyall insisted that Remus recuperate in their cottage and be hidden from the outside world. Although he aimed for his words on Sunday to be groundbreaking, there were already many people that would kill a werewolf if faced with one - even if it wasn’t turned. Apart from making sure his son wouldn’t perish from the effects of being bitten, he felt nearly the same, disappearing for long hours just to come back and hastily re-heal Remus’ wounds. Hope sat by his bedside and murmured words of comfort. They only had each other, now, it seemed. She couldn’t believe Lyall was insistent on thinking the entirety of the species were monsters.

“Bring Lucy,” Remus requested weakly on the second afternoon. She smoothed a hand over his forehead and nodded, retreating to the living room to scoop up the cat that had been largely neglected since the full moon. Once picked up, she purred, rubbing Hope’s arm in a reassuring way. She wept silently until reaching Remus’ door.

“Hi, Lucy,” he said softly, stroking her fur and letting her nuzzle on his face. “Thanks, Mum. Is Da coming back?”

“Just to fix you up, I think,” she bit her lip. Her heart felt like it sank further at every mention of him. Her husband. Remus’ father. As she willed his presence into existence, she heard the faint  _ crack  _ from Apparation and the jingling of something being set on the counter. His heavy footsteps approached his room. Before she could welcome him home, his already-furrowed expression worsened, and he was snarling something.

“That  _ thing  _ is not safe, here!” he growled, pushing the cat unceremoniously off the bed and away from Remus - the  _ monster  _ that had festered itself in their home. 

“Why not?!” she rose, scooping Wanderlust up from the floor on her way there, who looked quite frightened. She scratched at Hope’s arm in an attempt to escape the pursuit of Lyall. 

“Mum, give her back,” Remus insisted. He seemed oblivious to the way his parents were glaring at each other.

“Hand her here, Hope,” Lyall said dangerously. “You  _ know  _ what his kind do to poor animals like that. I remember you  _ agreeing  _ with me when you read over my thesis.”

“How was I supposed to know you were full of shit?” she whispered, gathering the kitten closer to her chest. “Now that I’ve met one, I can see they’re just like everybody else, and that you’re just a prick with prejudice.”

“Da, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Remus,” he said harshly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You get your hand off my son and leave this house!”

“And where will you go to help him? No one wants to heal a  _ half-breed _ . I’m surely the only one willing.”

“Willing? I bet there’s plenty of kind wizards  _ willing  _ to help him out.”

“I promise you there’s not-”

“And why am I supposed to believe you?”

The cat was mysteriously gone the next morning, as was Lyall.

***

When Remus was seven, he was back to playing with strays in the meadows. The disappearance of his father brought a general happiness that he’d been too naïve to notice the absence of during his early years, but also made poverty seep into every old crevice of the cottage. Hope did her best to scrape up enough to feed a growing boy and the wolf that took residence in the adjacent field once every month, but there wasn’t a shilling left to feed anything else. At least Lyall hadn’t been entirely serious when he said that for the first four years of his life. It was better than it being undeniably true.

Him and Ralph had drifted apart once he stopped attending primary school. For one, the policemen would have been suspicious of the scar that ran across his freckled nose and the cuts and scabs on his arms that seemed incurable. For two, he was, without a doubt, showing signs of magic. Hope began to read to him about a school called Hogwarts that he’d get to attend one day. In the meantime, they were stuck together, learning about all the things a normal (“Muggle” she called it) seven year old boy would.

Being isolated with his mum was both a blessing and a curse. He was much more fragile than any other child, giving up the mischief that had once taken up great space in his mind. He was dainty instead, tearing apart blades of grass and flowers because it was one of the only things he could control. With no one to talk to while Hope worked, he remained silent, working through the multiplication they learned together in his head. The bandages that held him together were picked apart by restless fingernails.

Yet, there was a grey cat he named Alice that rubbed on him while he lounged in the sunshine. She belonged to a witch that did some preliminary healing on him (under the assumption he happened to get into a lot of trouble - meaning she didn’t fix everything), but often stopped by to mewl at him and lick at the soft pads of his fingertips. Her presence was a beacon in the sea of inescapable darkness.

***

Eleven years old brought better things. He was instructed to keep his lycanthropy more secret than ever, since Hogwarts was full of prying eyes and ears. Yet, there was a nice woman that came to meet him in the late summer of 1971, and she explained that she had the capabilities to heal him fully. He would no longer have to labour through broken ribs and dislocated shoulders for more than a matter of a few hours. Instead, she would fix him up in the little house that he was to experience full moons in.

The train ride brought more solitude. He missed his mum and the cats that surely wouldn’t be at Hogwarts. All of his secondhand and diminished things were tucked away in a battered trunk that he refused to look at, but his one prized possession was out. It was a wand that Hope had saved up for for ages. She had taken him to Ollivanders’ (the only shop in Diagon Alley he was permitted to go in for reasons he didn’t understand) and allowed him to try out the magical devices to heart’s content. Not only did  _ he _ choose _ it _ , but it felt like  _ it  _ chose  _ him _ . He looked at it in every different light the compartment brought until two boys stepped in.

“We saw you were alone,” the taller one said. He had a head full of messy black hair, a kind face, and glasses that were slipping down the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah. We’ll join you,” the shorter one piped up. Through Remus’ limited social skills, he could tell it hadn’t been this one’s idea to approach him, but didn’t care to analyze it further.

He settled for only grunting in response.

“I’m James. This is Peter,” the first boy said. 

“M’Remus…”

“What was that?”

“I’m Remus. Uh, Remus Lupin,” he concentrated very hard on the wand in his lap, suddenly thinking much more about his shabby clothes and trainers. He wished he could be petting Misty (a calico in his village) instead of being met with the prospect of making friends and talking to people. His entire façade had the potential to crumble if they started asking questions about the wrong things. 

James strolled over to the booth beside him. He sat down, smiling and beckoning Peter over. Before he could say anything else, a boy with an effortless cascade of hair as black as James’ came stumbling in, cursing at someone with more force than Remus had ever used with anything.

“Sorry about that. I’m Sirius,” he grinned and stuck out a hand. His robes were already on, and they looked more expensive than everything Remus owned combined. 

“What are you serious about?” Peter questioned.

“No. I’m Sirius Black.”

That meant nothing to Remus at the time, but his mind would quickly change.

***

That Christmas, he was the only one out of his friends to stay behind. They had all promised to come back on Boxing Day, but he was ready to revel in the silence that the library just couldn’t replicate. That, and he would finally have time to reflect that he  _ had  _ friends - without their nosiness disrupting each and every thought of his. He went to bed on Christmas Eve after a long day of lounging and making friends with the caretaker’s cat. The man himself (Mister Filch, they were to call him; they referred to him as much worse behind his back) was brooding, but he seemed to let his cat have the run of the place while there were no troublemaking students around.

He woke up the morning of, only expecting some homemade sweets from his mum, but instead saw an abundance of shiny presents before him. There was one from each of his roommates. All of them were nicer than anything fathomable. Sirius’ was the nicest of the bunch, since he gifted him a warm jumper and chocolate from a Hogsmeade shop - somewhere he’d found a way to sneak off to during the boy’s “Marauding” sessions (which Remus had yet to take part in, as they fell suspiciously around the full moon). Remus slumped down to breakfast when he realized they’d probably want him to return the favour.

“Remus, come have biscuits with me at three,” Professor McGonagall offered while he walked back to the dormitory. As of that moment, he was waiting for the stairs to match up with his destination, privately working out the time it took for them to switch. The schedule they were on seemed to make no rhyme or reason, just like everything else in that castle. 

He’d barely eaten anything, not liking the way he enjoyed the jumper that he’d surely have to return. The prospect of being fed whilst having a provided distraction from his friends was an offer he couldn’t pass up.

“Thank you, Professor.”

He waited for the hours to tick by until then. In the now-deafening silence, he slowly re-wrapped the presents, starting with the chocolate frogs from Peter. There wasn’t any chocolate left, but he put the cards back in the box, writing a note to him and apologizing.

Next was James’. It was a pair of magical binoculars, designed for watching Quidditch matches. It was an awfully considerate gift, since they’d only attended two Quidditch matches before. He was astounded at the card attached (which he grudgingly put back). It talked about how he’d be able to watch him and Sirius play in the years to come. How did he know he never had an interest in playing with them? He felt the heavy air further compress him. 

The bloody idiot had forgotten to tear off the price tag. He saw how many galleons it cost, feeling another pang of guilt. That was put back in its red wrapping paper, and a similar note to Peter’s was set on top. When he next looked up, it was half past two, and he figured he’d have to hunt around for McGonagall’s office a bit before finding it. The others had gone there for plenty of detentions since the start of term, but not him. Not yet. Since it was nearly time to go, he supposed he could leave Sirius’ jumper on and get back to repackaging it later.

No one was there when he arrived. Instead, there was a tabby cat in her desk chair. The markings around its eyes looked beyond similar to Lucy’s, but it was clearly more put together than she had been. It was groomed, its tail was intact, and it didn’t have teeth sticking out from below its lips. He patted its head as he sunk into a chair across from it. Then, he put his head in his hands and wept with more than just homesickness.

***

In late second year, Remus was intent on tracking down a kneazle that belonged to a girl that James wouldn’t stop whinging about. The newly turned thirteen year old boy seemed to inherit a bout of hormones with the stack of presents he got for his birthday. Remus, on the other hand, figured he was a late-bloomer, just like Peter. He was more interested in the girl’s (he was fairly certain her name was Lily) kitten rather than the puberty she seemed to have hit. Despite giving into the mischief he’d once loved as a child for the sake of the friend group, he wasn’t quite ready to discuss female anatomy with the rest of them. They all seemed quite young for it.

“Lily?” he went up to her one afternoon with sudden courage, picking at a scab on his wrist subconsciously. “Can I see your kneazle?”

“Sure!” she said brightly. “I’ll bring him down for you, just wait here.”

James came up behind him, effectively startling him.

“How’d you manage to talk to her?”

“I just want to see her kneazle,” he shrugged. It seemed fairly simple. 

“Oh, Sirius,” James pressed a hand to his chest. He looked over to the other boy, who was effortlessly lounging on the sofa. Whenever Remus did that, he seemed to look awkward, so he tended to stick to sitting straight and working on his posture, instead. “We’re losing our dearest Remus to the birds.”

“Let me guess. It’s the sexy scar on his nose. It drives them all mad with lust.”

Remus blushed, but not from flattery. They still had yet to discover why he turned up with more cuts and bruises every month. He liked to keep it that way. Coming up with continuous lies about getting into fights and rescuing cats from altercations at night was enough to keep them at bay. Or, at least, for then.

“Why do you have that scar, Rem?”

“I’ve  _ told  _ you-”

“Here he is! His name is Hephaestus, since he’s an orange tabby. He looks like fire in the sunlight,” Lily interjected, handing the cat over to Remus. He was bleary-eyed and purring, sniffing idly at Remus as he got adjusted to his new surroundings. Remus scratched the spot under his chin that most domestic cats loved. Teaching the village cats to not be scared of him touching there was one of his favourite things to do, since he felt so at ease once he succeeded. Where humans didn’t have his trust, cats did, since they were entirely unjudging until it came to how they got treated.

“He’s beautiful,” he murmured.

“He likes you. Have you ever thought about Care of Magical Creatures as an elective next year? You seem quite taken with animals.”

“I like animals, too,” James spoke up.

“Sure, Potter,” she rolled her eyes, then turned back to Remus. “I’m mostly excited to talk about Dark Creatures. Like vampires and werewolves - y’know, all the stuff that’s in the library’s Restricted Section.”

“Yeah,” he coughed, suddenly not in the mood to be a part of the conversation anymore. “I think I’m going to head upstairs now. I’m quite tired.”

“Oh. Alright.”

“‘Night, Lily. Thanks for letting me pet Hephaestus.”

“Anytime, Remus.”

***

Remus was glad that Hephaestus lounged around the common room throughout the day, catching sun rays while Lily was at class. Since they didn’t have corresponding study halls, he was able to work alongside him without the risk of her commenting on anything to do with creatures. The first time had been a near miss. Sirius had even checked up on him afterward, to which he shooed him away and tried to become as distanced as he had in early first year. Most of his time was now spent studying with the kneazle, but he could easily write it off as wanting to get a headstart on end of year revisions. After all, the full moon was the week before, and he’d likely still be recovering from it during exams. He would need to do as much work beforehand as possible.

“Remus,” Sirius plopped down next to him one afternoon, somehow finding him through the mountain of books he was tucked behind. He set down his bag with a  _ thump  _ next to Remus’, and his eagle-feather quill rolled onto the floor. He paid no mind to it.

“Yes, Sirius?”

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

“I-”

“And I think I know why,” there was a glint in his eye that he only got when they were planning a prank. Remus didn’t like it. Per usual to situations he wanted out of but couldn’t leave, he looked back to the book in his lap. If he kept reading, he might return to being left alone. It was worth a shot. “Will you tell me if I’m right?”

“Just tell me. No promises either way, alright?” he said wearily. He turned a page and secretly seethed at how the paper felt against a scar on his fingertip.

“You’re a werewolf.”

Remus’ worst fears had come true. They had discovered him at last - or at least Sirius had, which meant he was to tell James, and Peter would find out in the mix of things. He swallowed and shook his head on instinct (although, when he thought about it, no one had ever come up to him and asked him before), reading the same sentence over and over again while Sirius thought of what to say. He knew it, and he knew Remus knew it, so it was a matter of getting him to confess. But, Sirius had yet to learn which of Remus’ buttons he couldn’t push, so on he pressed, launching into the second part of his scheme.

All Remus wanted to do was leave and never come back.

“But I-”

“Drop it, Sirius,” Remus said with a sudden fierceness and coldness. His face was hardened, but behind the mask of the expression was a face that looked broken and terrified.

“I know you are! Why else would you have scars? Especially when you change shirts-”

“I change behind my curtains for a reason. Ever thought why?”

“Well now I know why. So, please, Remus, just let me.”

“Let you what?”

“Let me help.”

“Sirius, I’m a monster.”

“I think it’s really bloody cool, actually.”

“I don’t need you to pretend,” he snapped. Then, he was haphazardly shoving his things into his bag, disturbing the order that was normally habited there. He ran up the stairs, not bothering to deal with the extra library books, nor the boy that refused to be crestfallen by his shortness. Sirius Black wouldn’t give up at that. He needed to help. 

***

It was the beginning of third year when Sirius showed Remus his own scars. At that point, the Marauders had taken to breaking into the Hospital Wing after full moons, bringing Remus sweets and refusing his measly offers of repayment. They had done this for three months, and it made Remus feel loads better each time. He had stopped needing to seek out so many cats to get comfort. The three wonderful boys were right there. Unflinchingly, unfailingly.

Still, though, he preferred to stay tough around the edges for them, only letting go when he was alone with Hephaestsus. Lily had allowed him to bring him up to the boy’s dormitory on occasion, being oddly kind about it and telling him she didn’t mind in the least. On the hardest days (where he missed his mum the most and felt particularly horrible about the burdens he placed on everyone), he would lay in his bed and let the tears spill beside the kneazle. He would continue to purr and allow Remus to keep petting him. Remus tried not to do this too much, but couldn’t help it sometimes.

By that point, Severus Snape had begun to tease him for his scars. Every day, Remus would fear he caught on to his secret. The boy was nasty enough to spread it around to everyone at school. Remus figured there were only two things stopping him: the fact that he didn’t hex him as much as Sirius and James, and that Lily was there to shut him up. She was friends with him for a reason unbeknownst to him, but still didn’t allow the taunting to continue past its early stages. He loved her for it.

He took Heph (the cat’s new nickname) upstairs during a study hall in October. He had planned on working on Sirius’ fourteenth birthday present, but got sidetracked at a note from Dumbledore on James’ bed. It was already open. In it, it talked about Remus, and how they were to tell no one about his lycanthropy. If they didn’t heed his warnings, Remus would have to leave Hogwarts. He set the kneazle down on his own bed and cried into his fur. If Dumbledore was sending him the note in the first place, that meant he had a reason to be untrustworthy. His life at Hogwarts being at stake was his undoing.

As always, Sirius seemed to stumble into his life at his most vulnerable moments. He stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, and asked the foreseeable question.

“Remus? What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing- it’s-” he sat bolt upright, flinging an arm across his face and continuing to lightly scratch the cat’s back with his other hand.

“D’you want to talk about it?” he pressed, sitting down beside him. Their knees knocked together. Hephaestus mewled at him in greeting, to which he looked at him stiffly. He’d always had something against cats, but wasn’t about to voice that when Remus was so obviously upset.

“Dumbledore sent James this note,” he whispered. “Were you guys going to tell?”

He handed it over to Sirius, who looked it over briefly. His face morphed into an expression of disbelief. Shaking his head, he swore up and down that they hadn’t even considered it.

“Rem, we said we’d help you. Why would we ever tell?”

“I dunno,” he sniffled. “Because I’m a monster, and I’ve got ugly scars, and Snape keeps hinting at it. I know  _ he  _ knows - and what’s the difference if you tell everyone or if he does?”

“You’re not- because we’re your friends. Friends don’t tell each other’s secrets.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Why else would we wait by your bedside and bring you sweets and share our secrets with you?”

“I don’t know any of your secrets,” he said as it dawned on him. “All I know is that you hate your brother and your mum and your dad and that none of it makes any sens-”

“Well do you want to know why?” he rounded on him, rolling up the sleeve of his button-up shirt. Remus thought he was going to punch him. He braced himself, turning towards Hephaestus to be blocked from the worst of it.

“Remus, look at me.”

“You’re going to hit me.”

“I’m not. I promise.”

Despite thinking back to how Sirius had promised not to tell anyone his secrets, he did, lowering his hands. Before him was a scar he’d never noticed. It was a thin, pale line, carved in the midst of his arm hair. Remus sucked in a breath. He would have never thought the rest of his roommates would have scars like him. Something at the moment told him it was just as cynical as his own, too.

“Mum did that to me last Christmas. I went to stay with James for the rest of break, but didn’t want you guys to know that she was like that. ‘Specially because you all have good mums.”

Remus didn’t say anything.

“See? I was never going to tell your secrets before, but now I really can’t. No one can know that the heir to the Black family fortune gets cursed by his own family,” he barked out a laugh, but it sounded strained. Remus looked at him with shining eyes and felt the first pull of close, true friendship.  _ Trust _ .

Beside him, Hephaestus purred.

***

The summer after fourth year brought all of the boys to James Potter’s estate. They went directly after term, celebrating Peter’s birthday on their first night of freedom. With decent exam scores behind them and a fresh start full of Muggle girls and the entirety of London ahead of them, they felt infinite. They could, and did, do anything they set their minds to. The first stunt was breaking into Fleamont Potter’s stash of alcohol.

A bonfire was loosely constructed, helped by Remus’ knowledge. Sirius credited the entire thing to how bookish he was. He sat close by and threw aimless things in the burning pile, only being stopped when James’ glasses were in jeopardy. Remus was in charge of making sure that didn’t happen again. Yet, James had no idea it had been his plan all along, so he only grinned, surreptitiously stealing things from his pockets in lieu of the spectacles. 

“Remus, tell us your deepest, darkest secret,” James giggled, taking a swig from their shared bottle of firewhiskey. 

“I’m a werewolf,” he deadpanned. “Sirius, tell us your greatest ambition.”

“Oh, Rem, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Piss off,” he shoved him, laughing as he toppled off the log they were sitting on. 

“Peter,” Sirius began from the ground. “What’s the greatest prank you hope to achieve?”

“Killing Snivellus,” he joked. “Jamesie, what’s something you want to do before leaving Hogwarts?”

“I want to make a map,” he said simply. They all looked at him with varying expressions, but each of them were incredulous in their own way.

“A  _ map _ ?” Sirius asked.

“Of the school. It’ll have all the secret passageways, rooms, and, hear me out on this, will be able to track every person in the building.”

“That’s brilliant,” Remus said. He was the first one to understand the capabilities, and knew their combined efforts would bring success to it. If only Lily could help them, then they’d be able to create it much faster. He’d have to wheedle his way into extracting the necessary charms from that lovely brain of hers. “Now, ask your question.”

“Okay, our dearest Remus, what do you want for your birthday?”

“It’s not for another nine months!”

“It’s a fair question, unless you don’t want anything. Like Christmas of first year.”

“A kneazle like Lily’s would be nice, I suppose.”

“What about a dog?” Sirius spoke up.

“What about them?” he challenged. “I’m a cat person, if you haven’t caught onto that bit. And, anyways, they’re not allowed at Hogwarts.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Peter kicked him in the shin. This started a turmoil of wrestling, and the conversation was forgotten. Why  _ would  _ Remus want a dog? The smelly creatures weren’t the least bit appealing to him, especially because they needed much more care than all of the cats he’d ever met. He was too busy fighting off Peter (who had begun to tickle him) to dwell on it.

***

November 18th, 1975, brought the worst full moon fathomable. Remus was carted off to the Hospital Wing and treated with experimental potions to ease his pain, along with having the ample amounts of blood he lost over the course of the night restored. He was barely awake for the thick of it. All he remembered was Madam Pomfrey’s face above him. Her expression was more worried than he’d ever seen it, but he was too preoccupied with the sharp pains in his head to truly process it. Instead, he fell back into unconsciousness, floating through the rest of the day like that.

“Remus,” he heard Sirius whisper when he first saw him. It was already the twentieth. Before then, Pomfrey had strictly kept the boys out, threatening them with detentions for the next fortnight if they dared break in. It barely deterred them, but was just enough to bridge them to when they were allowed. 

At first, it was only him and Sirius behind the curtains. He was secretly grateful, considering none of them had seen him this bad.

“Sirius,” he whispered, his throat still sore. He coughed. Sirius took the sight of him in as though he’d never seen him before. To be fair, Remus supposed, he looked strikingly weaker than November 18th - the last time they saw each other.

Sirius sat in one of the flimsy plastic chairs beside him, pulling it as close to the bed as he could. He took his hand and held it tight, grazing his thumb over the backs of his knuckles and surveying him closely. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual. His curls were lacking their usual glow. Worst of all, the fingers of the hand he was holding were covered in bandages. In fact, bandages lined a lot of visible places on him, minus his face.

Remus was allowed out of the Hospital Wing the next morning. Sirius walked him the entire way back to the dormitory, taking it easy while the others prepared chocolates galore for him in his bed. It was early enough that there was no one out and about, but he still protected him, fearing that Snape or Regulus would be out to get him. He didn’t bother to hide the way admiration blossomed in his chest in the quarter of an hour it took them to walk. Instead, he had an arm around him, their hands linked and Remus’ arm loosely at his waist. They spoke about anything other than the moon. 

All in all, it was the first time Remus had to take a week from classes to recuperate. He fought tooth and nail with them to go, but found himself too weak to make the treks to the common room - let alone the rest of the castle. In replacement of it, Sirius sat with him in his bed, reading him the excerpts from the textbooks that he’d missed and teaching him the corresponding spells. They sat up later than normal every night that week, practising under the feeble moonlight and often falling asleep at each other’s sides. Remus realized that being held close by someone (specifically Sirius) was better than cuddling with Lily’s kneazle.

***

It was half past midnight and a summer storm waged over James’ house. Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, and rain fell in thick sheets in the entire area. Remus was staying in his parents’ cellar for the moon, finishing up his healing in the living room when it happened. The boy he hadn’t spoken to for over two months was swaying in the fireplace, falling in a heap of blood and tears. His skin was stark white against the darker carpet, and even paler than Remus when he hoisted him up and yelled for help. Sirius whispered something about his parents before falling silent - a symptom of trauma that would riddle him infrequently.

He had done the unthinkable to Remus before the end of fifth year term. In the midst of hormones, OWLs, and the beginning of a change in their relationship, Sirius ran his mouth to Severus. It almost got Remus expelled, Snape killed, and himself in irreversible damage. James had saved the day in terribly heroic fashion (rather, the night, since Remus had been transformed at the time), going on to be Remus’ source of comfort more than Sirius’. The night that Sirius came back to him, all of that was forgotten.

“Sirius, it’s going to be alright,” he said softly, tears welling in his eyes. They were a tangle of awkward arms and legs on the Potter’s living room floor, ridden with anxiety about one another - about everything. “I’ve got you.”

“Remus! What’s going on?” James was suddenly there, very clearly half-asleep. His glasses were askew, hair a right mess, and he was wearing nothing but boxers. He was wide eyed when he saw what had become of Sirius. Running back upstairs to retrieve his parents, he promised they’d be there shortly and that everything would work itself out. Neither Remus nor Sirius believed him, but Remus assured Sirius that James was truthful for the sake of not wanting to make things worse.

“Sirius, love, you can stay with us for as long as you see fit,” Euphemia Potter bent down, smoothing her hand over his forehead and acting more motherly than any of them had ever seen her. “Fleamont’s going to fix you up, okay? I’ll get you some water.”

Sirius nodded, looking at Remus with an expression that said  _ don’t leave _ . He seemed to not be able to form words at the moment, but Remus understood, taking his hand and holding it tight. James’ dad got rid of the worst of the physical pain while his mum came back with water, but none of it cleared the defeated look in his eyes. He then tilted his head towards the door as a split-second warning, fleeing to get some space from all the eyes and ears and  _ people _ . Remus had never seen him so overwhelmed.

“Go check on him, dear, will you? It won’t be too much on your hip?” Euphemia asked him after a few minutes. She patted the spot the wolf had torn apart on him. He said it would hold up. Regardless if it were true or not, he knew he needed to get to Sirius.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Bring him to James’ room if he’s willing. He usually tells him what’s happened.”

Remus nodded.

“Sirius,” he whispered into the darkness, lugging the Potter’s cat with him. It may not have helped Sirius, but petting her while he paced on the covered porch calmed him down immensely. The weight of her in his arms was nothing compared to Sirius, but was lightyears warmer. He stayed underneath the awning and away from the storm to preserve it.

There was the feeling of magic heavy around him. Yet, it was short-lived. When Sirius got to his side, rain-soaked, there were no more traces of it. If he weren’t so worried, he just might have wondered what had happened. 

“I want you to know that nothing can get in the way of our friendship,” Remus started, shifting the cat (Elba) to one arm so he could offer his hand. Sirius didn’t take it. “I don’t want to make you feel horrible about what you did in May when it wasn’t rooted in selfishness. All I need is for things between us to be better, because I lo- because you can’t suffer in silence. You’re incredible, your parents aren’t worth it, and things need to have the chance to be okay again.”

“They disowned me,” he said it more to the rest of the world than to Remus. Elba pushed her way to being set down, leaving the two of them alone as she retreated back to the house. He wrapped his arms around Sirius and held him tight.

***

Despite it falling on a Wednesday, the Marauders had an all out bash for Sirius’ seventeenth birthday. They didn’t want to celebrate when he wasn’t properly of age the weekend before, nor the weekend after due to the full moon, so it was held the day of. He was the first of the four to become of-age, and it would be a great while until Remus did (he was the second eldest). In the end of it all, they would remember it as being the party of the century. Being the four most mischievous boys in their year made them well-practiced in party throwing.

Remus grinned lazily from the couch, staring up at Sirius. His school shirt was still on, unbuttoned to display bits and pieces of skin that Remus allowed himself to think about touching. He traced the places with his eyes as opposed to his hands, but it was all the same when he was getting steadily fuller with alcohol. There seemed to be a permanent burn stuck in his throat.

“Won’t you wish me a happy birthday?” he sat down beside him, lounging casually and draping an arm across Remus’ shoulders. He was still wearing a jumper, but his outfit was so incredibly  _ Remus  _ that it didn’t surprise him. That, and his curls were at full angelic glow, so much so that Sirius suspected him charming them. He had to bide his time until after the next moon, because he’d be able to run his fingers through them to heart’s desire without shame or questions. It always felt strangely important that  _ he  _ was the one to return them to their former glory each month.

“I’ve been doing that all day. Show me your watch again, will you?”

He took his wrist in his bony and scarred hand, smoothing his thumb over the face of it. It was the nicest thing he had ever seen, fit with any amenity that someone could get on one without it looking too busy. The Potters had insisted on getting it for him, telling him that there was no reason to not give one to each of their sons. Even the memory made Sirius smile - but it was unsurprisingly egged on by Remus touching his wrist.

“I have a present for you,” he started, leaning in a little closer. “But you have to wait-”

“Oi! Pa- Sirius!” James called over. “Peter’s done it!”

“Done wha- OH! THAT’S BLOODY BRILLIANT!” he hollered, getting up with a start and bounding over to James in doglike fashion. Remus was confused - since it didn’t look like Peter was anywhere in sight. It was no secret that he’d already shagged Mary Macdonald at the beginning of term, so it had to have been something else. But what?

“Sorry,” Sirius said breathlessly, jogging back over to him in a matter of seconds. “He’s been working on a spell for ages and it’s finally worked.”

“What for?”

“The map,” he lied.

“I thought it was already done…?”

“S’just some protective something or other - I dunno. So, a present?” he raised his eyebrows expectantly, wearing the grin that Remus wanted to snog right off his face. “For me?”

“I wanted to save it for later-”

“How about midnight?”

“Yeah. Get out there in the meantime,” he gestured loosely to the rest of the partygoers, who were talking, dancing, and snogging. “I know it’s killing you to be stuck with me.”

“You make me feel more alive than any of them, Remus,” he said quite earnestly. His grey eyes pierced him, surprisingly soft. The energy that had radiated in them was now focused wholly on Remus.

“Oh,” he blushed, ducking his head down.

“I’ll see you at midnight.”

“Yeah. Midnight.”

***

They stumbled upstairs, tripping over Hephaestus, who’d decided to lounge at the bottom of the staircase, submerged in the darkness. Sirius took Remus’ hand after that. When they got up to the dormitory, he still didn’t let go, turning him around so he wouldn’t have to face the moonlight that filtered in through the large windows. The moon looked eerily full - even though it wasn’t quite there yet. He knew Remus would never want to see it like that.

“So,” he smiled softly. Remus was a sea of colors despite the semi-darkness. His hair was continuing to reflect bits of gold, his face was cast in the moon’s silver shadow, and his dark green jumper covered the rest of his torso - all the way down to his hands. He’d pulled it down over his knuckles as the night went on out of nervous habit. Sirius made no attempt to fix it, instead making do and holding the part of his hands that was visible. “My present.”

“It’s not tangible-” he whispered, pressing their lips together in a rush. When they separated, he kept his face close. He looked even more angelic as he was surprised and breathless.

“What’s not tangible?”

“Your present. You can’t return that.”

“Yes I can.”

“Wha-?”

Sirius pushed their noses together first, then their lips, kissing him a little sounder than the first time. He slipped his hands out of his grasp, abandoning it to let them span over his waist and bring him impossibly close. Remus let himself be pulled in the flurry of emotion. He kissed him a little more fervently in the interim, but slowed down as soon as it hit him that he wasn’t going anywhere. There was the sudden realization that Sirius wanted this. Sirius wanted him. 

“Let’s get out of the moonlight,” Sirius guided him backwards onto his bed, lying him down and closing the curtains behind them. It was even darker there, but there were no distractions from the striking force of nature in the sky. In fact, they felt in their own little world, having nothing but each other within the veil of curtains. Remus propped himself up on one elbow and used the other hand to beckon him close, wanting to continue what they had started.

***

Christmas of 1976 was bittersweet. For once, all of the Marauders were able to stay. Before Sirius’ disownment, he was always being dragged to a cousin’s engagement, a fancy party, or something else that he would complain about for the weeks leading up to it. This caused a chain reaction of James not wanting to be without Sirius, Peter not without James, and Remus being left to his own devices for the fortnight-long break. Yet, the only downside of the change of events was not getting a moment’s worth of peace and quiet. With no assignments to do, he was expected to take part in every prank known to man. He slept more than ever the week beforehand in preparation for it.

Not only was this an issue, but it would be the last normal Christmas day at Hogwarts. The full moon fell the day of during 1977, so he was left to dread it, and to want to make the most of the year’s holiday. Sirius knew this, too, so he planned to make it the most memorable for Remus. The first step was something he’d wanted to do for ages.

It began on the morning of Christmas Eve. They all went to Hogsmeade and had snowball fight after snowball fight in the adjacent field, stumbling over each other and feeling their fingers and toes grow steadily more numb. Sirius’ favourite sight wasn’t the glittery snow - it was Remus. He was laughing himself senseless, falling over onto James to make a three-man heap (Peter was below James). Sirius rushed over to join them. He draped himself over Remus, tickling him and reaching under the three jumpers he had on to put snow against his bare skin.

“Bugger off!” he managed to shout through his laughter, tickling him back with even more force. 

“Never!”

When they trudged back up to the dormitory, vanishing the snow behind them per Professor McGonagall’s request, Sirius noticed how much Remus was shaking. He always got colder than the rest of them. Instead of forcing him to wait for warmth while Peter showered, he pulled him over to his bed without a fight. They redressed in new clothes and settled in amongst the immense pile of pillows and blankets. Remus tucked his head in the crook of his shoulder, long limbs folded against him. His shivering ceasing as soon as he was in the circle of Sirius’ arms. 

Sleep overtook him shortly thereafter.

“Has it happened yet? He looks awfully happy,” James said in the midst of tossing his snowy jumper into their mounting load of dirty clothes.

Sirius shook his head.

“He’d be cuddling with it instead of me if that were the case,” he kept his voice soft, making sure Remus didn’t stir at the words.

James quirked an eyebrow at the words, but he couldn’t help but notice how at-ease Remus looked. He was in one of Sirius’ jumpers, despite the torso being too short on him. His face was perfectly relaxed - none of the usual lines marring it. Of course his scars were still visible, but they didn’t showcase the loads of stress that was normally on him. He looked away when Peter emerged from the bathroom. It was his turn to shower. 

Peter went downstairs to fetch some sweets and hot chocolate for them. Sirius took advantage of the time they were alone.

“Remus,” he whispered. “Hey, Rem, I have something for you.”

“Hm?” he asked sleepily. “Sirius, m’too tired.”

“It’s a Christmas present.”

“That’s not ‘till tomorrow.”

He propped himself up on his hands anyways, watching closely as Sirius got something out from under his bed. It looked like an ordinary box - minus the fact that there was no lid. Sirius handed it off to him and said “Careful” (as if Remus was ever careless with things), wearing an eager expression. The weight of it was heavier than he would expect, but it all made sense when he saw what was inside. 

Curled up in it was a grey cat, its head tucked between its paws. 

“What’s its name?”

“Her name is Artemis. Like the-”

“-Goddess of the moon,” Remus finished in awe. “She’s for me?”

“You’ve wanted a cat since the moment I met you. You’re meant to have one,” he smiled softly and sat back down on the bed. Remus set down the box, cupping his face between his hands and kissing him deeply. There was a whispered “Thank you”, and he beamed as Artemis climbed between them, mewling at her new owner. 

Christmas had suddenly become less bittersweet and more complete for the two boys, who fell more and more for each other with each passing moment.

***

It was nearly February and Sirius was spending a suspicious amount of time away. There was a week until the full moon. If Remus weren’t so busy trying to make up the schoolwork he’d miss from his transformation, he would have noticed. Instead, he was hidden amongst the bookshelves of the school library, tucked away with a sleeping Artemis. She helped soothe all of his nerves about not being able to write papers fast enough, when he didn’t retain the information as much as he’d like, and anything else moon-related that typically struck him.

Two days before the moon (February first), he was weaker than usual. He didn’t notice Sirius’ absence until his presence was back in full swing. 

“Hi, Remus - Artemis,” he scratched her chin only for Remus’ sake. He still wasn’t the fondest of cats. 

“Hi.”

Remus’ shoulders were littered with tension as he hunched over the common room desk, scribbling something on a piece of parchment that was already filled to the brim. Artemis was lounged across the top of it. She was half asleep, opening her eyes to seemingly check on him at random. Sirius pulled a chair over and put his hands on his shoulders.

“The moon’s soon. Take it easy.”

“I need to finish this essay.”

“D’you want to just take a moment, then?”

“Alright,” he sighed. 

Sirius slipped his arms around him, pulling him back against his chest. Remus breathed out another sigh. He turned his head so it could be more secure against Sirius, threading their hands together around his front.

“Talk to me, Rem,” Sirius said softly.

“I’m worried about this month,” he whispered, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. “I get weaker each time, and it’s only going to get worse and worse.”

“Pomfrey’ll be there to help. She’s brilliant.”

“She keeps experimenting with new stuff, though - ever since fifth year. What if that stops working? What if there’s nothing else she can do?”

“I’m sure there is. You always come back from it.”

“Will I, this time?”

Sirius squeezed his hands, holding him a bit more securely. 

“March will be easier. Trust me,” he said it so soundly and confidently that Remus couldn’t help but cling to the words, hoping they’d turn out to be true.

***

Remus jumped when he saw a rat flit through their dormitory. Artemis narrowed her eyes in its direction, but it was already gone, clearly on a mission to get something or go somewhere. He breathed a sigh of relief when it didn’t return, falling back onto the bed and feeling too exhausted to move. It was the twentieth of February, and he figured his body should have been in its prime. The last moon and the upcoming one were half a month away each. Yet, professors in every subject decided to weigh them down with assignments right at that time. It was nearly demoralizing - even to someone as bookish as Remus.

“Hey, Rem,” Sirius smiled as he walked into the dormitory. Remus gave him an involuntary wave, letting his arm crash back down to the bed. He groaned, wanting some peace. “Tired?”

“Very.”

“Mmm. Too bad. I’m quite bored.”

“No,” he swatted him away with his hand as Sirius straddled him, tickling him. Sirius was the first to laugh out of the two of them, despite not being on the receiving end of it. Remus fought him, refusing him again but not truly meaning it. He tickled him back from beneath him and attempted to press a hand to his eyes. Sirius moved his head just in time so he could lick him.

“What are you-” he wheezed, breathing hard. “-, a dog?”

To his surprise, Sirius snorted at that, rendering him defenseless for a moment. Remus grabbed at his sides until he collapsed over him. They lay in a breathless heap for a moment. Then, Sirius licked his ear.

“Godric! You  _ are  _ a  _ bloody dog _ ,” Remus huffed.

“I would agree with you, but I’d rather like to kiss you now,” he said softly, kissing over the spot he’d licked. He nipped at the shell of his ear, then soothed the sensitive place with another press of his lips. Remus made a gentle noise of contentment and rustled a bit beneath him to get comfortable.

“I think that can be arranged.”

  
  


“So you do agree that you’re a dog?” Remus said a few minutes later, still reeling from having been thoroughly snogged. “I’ll have you know that I’m not a dog person.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose I’ll be able to change your mind at some point, won’t I?”

“How so?” he asked, bemused. Sirius inched closer to him, again, his breath tickling his skin when he talked.

“You like my tongue down your throat.”

“You’re gross.”

“You love me.”

“You got me ther- Oh. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn-”

“Do you love me?”

Remus attempted to deny it, but his crimson blush said otherwise. His shoulders sagged and he looked like he wanted to disappear. Just as he was through his second excuse, Sirius shut him up with a kiss.

“I love you too, you wanker. I always have.”

“Oh,” he said again, blinking, reeling. Someone was in love with him. Someone that he loved back.

***

“So we meet today for the one-time meeting of Messrs Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” James announced to the other two. Remus was studying, per usual, wanting to get ahead so he could take the days around the moon and his birthday off. They took advantage of the imperative moment, finishing up the last steps in his gift. It had taken ages - using up more skill and dedication than even Quidditch. That, and, to their knowledge, no other sixteen year olds had managed the feat. “Our dearest Moony will be further attending all other meetings, once becoming aware of Moony himself.”

“Get on with it!” Peter cried. “We need to finish this up!”

“Yes, yes. Well, first up would be Moony, but he doesn’t know, and cannot transform on his own accord. So, Wormtail, show us your transformation for the official record. To ensure safety and uphold the promise to not being turned into a werewolf, you must complete it-”

“-Five times in fifteen seconds,” he repeated wearily. “I know, I know. We’ve been practising for  _ weeks _ .”

“Alright. Your time starts now.”

Before their eyes, Peter proved himself to be more capable than anyone in the castle could have ever previously guessed. He turned from a small, brown rat to a boy like lightning and perfect ease, barely breathless as he transitioned to his human form for the fifth and final time. He puffed out his chest proudly. Despite being the last of the three to get his first switch, his recorded feat had gone without a single mishap.

“Good man, Wormtail!” Sirius thumped him on the back, his grin wide. 

“Now for Mister Padfoot…”

Sirius willed himself not to be clumsy or foolish, repeating over and over in his head that he had to succeed for Remus. He made his first transformation slow, revelling in the shape of the sleek, black dog for too long. The next four were a bit too hasty, but he’d never missed an attempt. It was good enough for James. They all cheered again, and he took it upon himself to take out a bottle of firewhiskey stored under his bed - strictly for celebration. Artemis appeared from underneath Remus’ bed when he tossed the bottlecap down, swatting it back and forth lazily. It was clear she’d been sleeping.

“At least she wasn’t out during Wormtail’s turn,” Sirius barked out a laugh. “He would have been a goner.”

“Alright, alright. My turn. Padfoot, do the honours of timing, would you?”

He did, recording his transformations at the corresponding seconds. Artemis skittered away when she saw the stag for the first time, but her claws against the hardwood wasn’t the noise that distracted him. James was in the middle of his second change as Sirius yelled out, shoving the door closed again.

“Just a second, Moon- Remus!”

“Sirius, why is there a  _ deer  _ in our  _ dorm room _ ?” Remus yelled.

“Quiet down! And he’s a stag, not a deer.”

“ _ He _ ?! Oh, buggering hell. I’m coming in there.”

“Wait-!”

Remus burst back into the room, wand at the ready. Out of all of their shenanigans, this had to be the most insane one. Yet, when he peered around suspiciously, there were no wild animals - only three, extremely frightened, teenage boys. 

“Where did the deer go?”

“What deer?” he said innocently.

“Sirius!  _ Where did the deer go? _ ”

“He went stag,” he smiled wide in the face of Remus’ glare. 

“You lot are going to be the bloody death of me. Now, where is he?”

Peter, in a betraying moment, pointed to James, then guffawing at how his face was as white as a sheet of ice. Sirius joined in the laughter as he shook his head fervently. 

“And what’s this?” he picked up the discarded sheet of times, seeing Sirius’ elegant scrawl of  _ Prongs _ ,  _ Padfoot _ , and  _ Wormtail _ . In whatever competition they had, Wormtail seemed to have done the best, but Prongs had only made it through one of the rounds. 

“It’s a scoresheet,” Sirius said between laughs. 

“Oh, really?” Remus had sarcasm dripping from the words. “What for?”

“James, just tell him,” Peter egged him on.

Remus waited expectantly. In a startling moment, James had disappeared, but not as he would have underneath the Invisibility Cloak. Before him stood the stag he’d briefly seen before. Next was Peter, who was identical to the rat that had run across the dormitory at the end of February. Each had their own unique markings. James’ were most prominent, showing faint outlines of his glasses like McGonagall’s Animagus did. Then, it clicked. His friends were illegal Animagi.

“How?  _ Why _ ? This is so incredibly illegal- you’re going to get caught, and expelled, and-”

He sucked in a breath as Sirius turned into a great, beautiful dog. He bounded forwards to him and put his paws on his shoulders. Remus felt light-headed. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, then Sirius licked his ear in the same place he had two weeks ago. He made a startling transformation back into his human form, and Remus was kissing him full on the mouth before he could say another word. He understood why. 

***

After a few hitches in the plan, it was finally settled: they would join him for his March transformation. Everything was under the pretense of them not watching him undergo the events itself. Remus insisted that they not see the horrors he faced - not if it would cause them to feel particularly empathetic for the wolf. They had to understand its deadliness more than anything.

He had his doubts, but was ultimately walked to the Shrieking Shack with Sirius by his side. They went early so he could get used to his dog form there, but also so Remus could stay calm. He picked at his scars all over his arms, getting increasingly anxious as moonrise loomed.

“Moons,” Sirius took his hands away from himself, using the newfound nickname to get his attention. “You’re going to be okay. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Remus looked up at him, nodding. He blinked away the frustrated tears from his eyes. As much as it killed him to not let Sirius embrace him, he kept his distance, explaining it away ineloquently - unlike his usual self. Sirius took it in stride (like he did with everything). He kept his hands in his grasp and rubbed his thumbs over them when they began to shake.

Remus stepped away so he could undress down to his pants. His eyes lay downcast when he was done, but Sirius joined him near the back corner and collected his hands again, taking deep breaths and hoping he would copy. He followed along for a bit, eventually straying away from it in lieu of shaking.

They stood in the center of the shabby room. Everything felt better than usual to Remus with the security of having his friends (which still wasn’t saying much), but the wolf that stewed in him looked at the boy hungrily. He hoped to God it wouldn’t end up hurting any of them in their animal form. If it did, he didn’t know if he could handle it. He was just about to tell Sirius to keep his distance, but he spoke first.

“Prongs and Wormy will be here soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled shakily, wanting to pace the floors but staying grounded just for his hands. “Go upstairs now. It’s gonna happen soon.”

“I love you,” he said in a rush. He didn’t have time to wait around for a response, but knew Remus felt exactly the same. 

***

Remus woke up to the beginning of the sun’s rays filtering through the tattered curtains. Sirius was cradling his head in his lap, hands working gently through the tangled mess that his hair had become. His breath was felt in steady rises and falls against Remus, promoting how (surprisingly) relaxed he felt. Despite an overall soreness, he didn’t notice any sharp pains make themselves evident. He let his eyes fall closed again - but with a conscious decision.

The next time he awoke, it was a bit lighter. Sunlight streamed through the bay window. He was relieved it wasn’t moonlight. Turning over, he was met with his arm draped across something large and warm. It was Padfoot. He felt like he was in a waking dream, not quite to his senses, and disoriented with his surroundings. They weren’t in the Hospital Wing. He shook the sleeping dog with a sore arm, pressing his face into his back. In a blur of magic, he was once again resting his head on Sirius.

“Alright, Moons?”

“Where are we?”

“Pomfrey said it's the best you’ve ever looked. She returned you here before we could even meet you at the Hospital Wing.”

“I was okay?”

Sirius nodded. He turned over, careful to readjust Remus with gentle hands and thought-out movements, his grey eyes soft in the morning light. Remus put his head on his chest and just breathed the familiar scent of his t-shirt - the scent of  _ Sirius _ . Sirius, who had come up with the Animagus plan ever since learning about them in third year. Sirius, who went to extreme lengths and bent over backwards to do something that could put him in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Sirius, who broke every school rule in the best way possible. Sirius, who got him a cat (and named it after the  _ moon _ ) even though they were his least favourite animals in the world. Sirius, who’d been doing things for Remus his whole life, knowing the brilliance of it but not appreciating himself as much as Remus did. Sirius, who was so bloody perfect that he couldn’t possibly comprehend it.

When Remus came out of his haze, Padfoot was beside him again, nosing his curls.

Perhaps he could be a dog person, too.


End file.
